A very nice recovery ride is in the books. A malaise fell over a large swath of the group this morning. The surviving quintet—AY, SL, MG, DP, and I spent the morning leisurely spinning up and down farmland vales.

So leisurely I learned a lot not only about World War II, but the history of CPUs. I don’t know who was the bigger nerd in the late 70s/early 80s, Dennis or Mark. Tie for first I suspect. They got emotional discussing their first calculators. LOL.

Beautiful scenery that didn’t hit quite as hard on Day 3 such is human nature. We adapt. Dare I say I’m getting used to the beautiful, bucolic, Belgian countryside. There are still surprises though. Like endless bike paths, with “Z” would be thrilled to know, excellent signage. And the Belgians have figured out how to avoid tree root bumps, their tarmac is, like Barbara Streisand’s voice, buttery.

I’m not sure AI will be much help with today’s question. I asked it yesterday, after traversing through some very wealthy enclaves. “Where do the poor people live?” “There aren’t any,” was the duplicate answer I got from a few knuckleheads. Someone, anyone, please do better. Thank you in advance.

Postscript. Click on images for captions.

There are twelve of us altogether. Three went long from the house today. The elite top 25%. The other nine of us, the proletarian 75%, drove just over an hour each way to “ride under the water”. Which meant four to five feet under the surface of a lake on a bike path that divided it. Supe cool.

The driving was not fun, and our parking plan had to be altered due to the setting up of a carnival, then Bob got kidnapped inside Aldi, or so it seemed, so patience was the name of the game. We didn’t get rolling until just after noon.

I managed to fix my computer connection glitch and got the route pre-loaded which meant I was able to drive the train. Which I did. All day. I kept it steady and did my best to keep the group together. It’s always a little tricky given people’s different ages, levels of fitness, and general preferences. No one got too mad at me. I don’t think.

From now on, I think I’ll ride from the base camp. It literally took all day for a shortish/flatish ride. And the last thing I want to have happen twice is getting stuck in the car for more than two hours with Dennis. My Olympia homeboys will understand.

Vic postscript.

Back home as my application for citizenship was denied. The official explanation was two-fold.

First, I failed the “Field Test” by which they mean “Ice Test”. Anyone from the (dis)U.S.A. applying for citizenship has to skate end-end-to-end in under ten seconds. As I tightened the laces of my skates, I thought I could do it. Remember, I did skate at Kent State University weekly in the winters while living in Tallmadge, OH in primary school. Also, I thought if I could just channel Alysa Lui! You know, not focus on that red Canadian passport with the maple leaf on it, just use the test as an opportunity to express my bofo athleticism and joy. Should be easy peasy.

It took me 11 seconds.

Second, they wrote, “Applicant represents no real commercial value to the Canadian economy. Kinda a sadsack, spent most of his time moping around in his room. Mostly only exited the hotel to eat. Did try on a hoodie at Mountain Equipment Coop, but didn’t follow through on the purchase. Did take the business card of the artist exhibiting in the hotel’s cafe, but didn’t purchase any of her paintings.”

It seems to me they could’ve stopped after the first “no real commercial value” sentence. Didn’t have to get so personal. As if I don’t have any feelings.

Their closing statement left no wiggle room for a do-over. “It is our conclusion that he is a shit skater and consumer with little of value to add to Canada.”

That said, I will return Vic. And do better. Promise.